I Have no Idea
by Ao yuki
Summary: Have you ever wondered how you would react if you were Harry Potter? John used to. But now he didn't have to. Time and dimensions will never been the same again.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Greetings to all reader.

After a long hiatus, I'm back. For a while anyway. While the rest of my fanfic that I have on his account gets a quiet face-lift (whenever I actually have the time), this will be my newest fanfic. I currently have approximately 15 chapters of this written (unedited, unfortunately) and will be posting each chapter up as soon as I get the time to edit them (and get my lovely unofficial beta to look through it as well).

I know what you're thinking now. 'Another rubbish Harry Potter fanfic. How cute.' Yes, it is a actually a serious attempt at putting a person from our world into that of Harry Potter's and seeing how he fare.

Honestly. Wouldn't you like to know?

Summary: Have you ever wondered how you would react if you were Harry Potter? John used to. But now he didn't have to.

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Chapter 1:

It was a nice day.

Or at least it would have been, he grouchily thought to himself, if only he wasn't where he was at this moment. He should have been in bed still, peacefully and gladly getting some well-deserved rest after the frenzy from the night before; doing last minute research on DNA and the Human Genome Project had been more than draining. Yet instead of being perfectly cocooned in la la land, here he was, six am on a Saturday morning, standing foolishly at the side of a reservoir. At least, foolish would be the word that he would use to describe someone if he saw someone standing alone and desperately trying to do some last minute stretching exercises to prevent his muscles from cramping up (as they wont' to do) later. He carefully controlled his facial expressions so that he looked composed and calm on the outside. But inside. Oh, inside. He was seething. He was thinking of various homicidal thoughts regarding his friends.

"Hey, John!"

There was an overly-enthusiastic pat on his back, which made him stumbled forward and almost fell over. Daniel, Joel, and Adam had apparently, decided to arrive together. He dropped the calm expression and scowled.

"Hey yourself. They three of you are late, man. The race's starting in 10 minutes," he replied irritably.

Daniel pushed his spectacles up his nose and frowned at him.

"We were way ahead of you. You're the late one. Late _and_ lost, mind you. All of us were looking for you. Where the hell did you go?"

John looked incredulously at them. Really? That was the excuse they were gonna use now? Putting the blame on him?

"We agreed to meet below the banner! _This_ is where the banner is, in case you need to change your spectacles. Again."

They three of them looked up. Adam sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Come on, man. We got five more minutes till it starts. Doesn't matter who's late or whatever. Let's just get going before it begins without us."

The route of the race was simple enough. It was a 9km run from Harbour Front to Kent Ridge park. Termed as the Southern Ridge Trails, it was a well-known route that runners took whenever they felt like running.

Unfortunately, John really wasn't the running sort of person. In fact, he despised it with the passion of a thousand burning Suns. If it wasn't for the cunning manipulation of certain people in his current company…

He narrowed his eyes and glared at the head of brown spiky hair in front of him. Said hair did not catch on fire, much to his disappointment. Joel knew perfectly well his penchant for panting and general bad mood whenever running was a stipulated requirement for a certain examination. But that definitely didn't stop him from tricking him into signing up for the race. Nu-huh. In fact if anything, it encouraged him.

Sometimes, John thought it must have been Joel's motto to torture him with as much running as possible.

"Running is good for you, you know. You should do more of it!" Joel cheerfully exclaimed, as if he could hear his thoughts.

But still… He supposed it could not be too bad. The three of them were there with him at least. Although he had no doubt that they would actually (god-forbid) enjoy the mindless movement of one leg in front of their other in a sufficiently high speed rather than despise it like he would.

"Welcome, all participants, to the annual Cara Lito Junior College Race! The race is about to begin in three minutes' time. All participants please proceed to the starting line quickly!"

Following the crowd, the three of them was able to get a rather good spot (in his opinion anyway) somewhere in the middle of all the other rest of the excited population of runners from Cara Lito Junior College. The horde of them was wearing their school's usual Physical Education attire, according to the different sports houses that they were assigned in their freshman year (red, blue, green, or yellow). Daniel commented that he would rather they be in front. He, apparently, had an actual desire to win the said race. John had a feeling that Adam and Joel both agreed, but did not really have the chance to say anything, as the horn soon sounded and they all set off.

The surge of crowd made it difficult to manoeuvre themselves at first, but the four of them soon found themselves at the front, which unfortunately for John was the unofficial vote from the majority. Leaving the rest of the crowd behind them, they ran at a sedated pace, knowing that they would need their strength later on in the race and that dashing off was a good way to end up losing in the end.

Trees, shrubs, and the occasional cars passed them. No words were exchanged between them, saving their breaths for later on.

John easily matched his friend's pacing. It wasn't the first time the four of them ran together, and it definitely would not be the last time either. Three of them were in the school basketball team, one in the swimming team and unfortunately, both of their coaches were close friends and seemed to enjoy seeing the basketball players and swim team run rounds and rounds around the court. More than they actually played basketball or swim sometimes.

His legs began to ache, and his breath began feeling like he'd left them one or two kilometers back on the trail. His friends slowly began to pull away, Joel smirking at him with mischief in his eyes.

"Come on, John! My old grandma runs faster than you are, right now. How are you going to catch Tracy at this rate?"

John did not really hear what Joel said, given the pounding in his ears from his frantic heartbeat. He did hear the name 'Tracy' though, and he flushed red. Redder. If that was even possible, given that his face already had an over-abundance of blood.

"Yeah, Joel. Funny you should mention her. As if you can even catch a ball thrown by Tracy, much less catch up with _her_."

Tracy, being the leading track and field runner in CLJC, could run faster and further than anyone else. They were also, coincidentally, in the same class. During a rather impromptu game of volleyball started by the class president, Tracy and Joel found themselves on opposite team. During a particularly hard throw by Tracy, Joel somehow missed the flying ball and it hit his face, sending his spectacles flying. Which wasn't even half the story. The spectacle ended up bouncing off one of the teacher's face before smashing on the floor.

Very humiliating. Especially when after that, he could not see anything after that, missing half the day's lesson. Tracy offered to pay for his spectacles of course, but he politely declined.

"Shut up, John."

He was still sore about that, apparently. A basketball player who couldn't catch a ball.

The sky seemed to get darker. Or was that just his transition lenses acting up again? He wasn't sure, but if he squinted he could just make out a few clouds that seemed as if –

From seemingly nowhere, a rock jutted out from the ground. And unfortunately, John wasn't really looking at where he placed his feet. His left foot caught the rock and with a rather sickening cracking sound, the said foot bended in a way that feet weren't supposed to.

One moment, he was staring at puffy grey clouds, partially blocked by the trees and the next moment, he was staring at the hard concrete pavement, left leg useless and drowning in immense pain. He sucked in a deep breath, trying not to make any sudden movements that would result in more pain, if that was even possible.

"Woah! You okay?"

It was Adam, staring at his foot.

"Oh no I'm just peachy. Just decided to lay down on the freaking ant-infested floor for no reason at all," he growled with gritted teeth.

"Looks like quite a bad sprain," Adam prodded at the rapidly swelling ankle.

John hissed, "Stop it."

The pain slowly subsided, endorphins and histamines kicking in to arrest the pain. John grimaced. He was half-glad and half-upset about it. He wouldn't have to complete the race, not with a sprain like that. But on the other hand, Joel was going to be a huge ass about it. Probably implying in not-so-many words that he sprained his ankle on purpose to avoid the race.

Daniel and Joel were already somewhere beyond their range of sight. Both of them had apparently gaining a sudden burst of energy and decided to sprint the rest of the way. Even if they were to return, they wouldn't be able be of much help. The closest first aid station was where the finishing line was.

"Just go on, Adam. I'll go rest over there."

"Are you sure?" He looked uncertain.

"Stop being such a wimp. Just go."

"Fine, fine. I'll get them to come back for you later."

And he was off.

Sitting under a conveniently placed pavilion, John contemplated absentmindedly about his sprained ankle and tried not to move his foot too much. He wouldn't be able to attend practice for at least a week like this. Maybe more. Most probably, even attending school was going to be a problem for the next two to three days.

A low rumble echoed through the sky. Fairly dark-looking clouds were turning darker by the second, each of them fusing together to form bigger ones.

The first few droplets of water hit the pavement. Rain started to pour in earnest.

It poured. And continued pouring. The sound was a constant roar in his ears. Each droplet fell fat and heavy on the ground.

John looked at his red and swollen ankle. The pain was muffled now, but he was quite sure that it would come back soon. He wasn't usually the type to sprain his ankle. In his entire eighteen years of life, he was quite certain that he'd only sprained it once or twice. Both were quite serious cases however, and required a trip to the hospital in case he fractured something. Thankfully, he never did.

Two other runners were in the pavilion with him. One was a guy with a red cap on, an impatient look on his face. He seemed like the type to continue running even the rain didn't allow them to see their hands outstretched in front of them.

A flash of light lit up the pavilion, which was quickly followed by a crack of thunder.

He turned his attention to the other runner, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor, her face pale. She seemed exhausted. Probably didn't do much exercising in her spare time. If she indeed, did any sort of exercise at all. She was skinny, but not in that athletic way. Just plain skinny, all skin and bones on her with hardly any meat. Her angles seemed all wrong too.

She reminded him of Tracy… Somewhat. These days, every girl seemed to remind him of Tracy, the girl that he admitted to himself that he had been observing for a while now. It wasn't anything too stalker-ish. He just liked looking at her; especially when she tied her hair up in a ponytail. It seemed to change her entire facial features, making them sharper and softer at the same time. It sent blood coursing through his veins, to places that he did not like to think about much and made him shift uncomfortably in class.

Unfortunately, they were both in their final year of JC, and he had yet to muster up the courage to ask her out. And given that his interests and hers were vastly different, they were most likely going to end up in different courses, if not totally different universities altogether.

There were only two universities worth going where he lived. John would, he supposed, try to at least go to the same university that Tracy was going. But chances were, she was going to an overseas liberal arts college. He thought it was a rather huge waste of time, personally. A liberal arts degree was hardly going to help her find a job, but it was her choice.

There was another flash of lightning, and a subsequent boom of thunder.

Vibrations resonated from his pocket. He took out his mobile phone.

It wasn't anything too fancy, being a free phone that came with his mobile calling plan, but it was workable. And most importantly, it had internet.

Joel had messaged him on Facebook, asking him if he had chickened out on the race.

John gave a long-suffering sigh.

_/Sprained ankle, you dumbass. Try running with a swollen ping pong ball on your foot./_

His eyes landed on the side of his timeline. He felt a little guilt about ignoring one of the requests to attend a Halloween party, but he had already a prior arrangement with some other group of friends. It wouldn't do ignore them either. After much debating with himself (he had a tendency to do that quite often, actually), he decided in the end to go for the one that didn't require him to travel long distances. After all, one never knew when the train would break down once again and cause him to be stuck from going home once the party was over. He definitely didn't intend to stay overnight at some random park.

A few flashes of lightning struck a tree barely a few metres away to his left. The sound of thunder was deafening and he flinched away from it, almost causing him to scream. Flinching when you have a sprained ankle wasn't a good idea, as he found out.

John stared. He hasn't seen lightning that closed before. He would be safe as long as he stayed under the pavilion, of course, given that it had a lightning protector. But still. It seemed as if the lighting was searching for something, striking at random patches of ground and increasing in intensity when it was nearer.

He shook his head. Since when had be gotten so paranoid? It was a ridiculous notion. Lightning had no consciousness and Thor was probably too busy with Loki and the other deities to care about some puny mortal in a puny country.

John took a glance at his watch. Water droplets were on its surface, together with some sand and dirt. It was thankfully, waterproof.

The numbers 6.38am gleamed green. It was usually the time when his sister would wake for her horse riding lessons. He had been thinking about it for a while, whether he ought to join her. But the idea of waking up early even on _Saturdays_ made his bones ache.

He made to push up his spectacles. And at that moment, John suddenly realized that something wasn't quite right.

Because while his mind had been wandering around different topics, the two runners that were with him had disappeared.

He pondered on the ramifications of that. Had they decided to swim their ways back to the finishing line rather than wait the rain out? It wasn't entirely an impossible assumption. He just thought that it was a stupid decision. At the rate that the water was falling from the sky, they were more likely to get lost and end up spraining their ankles as well than actually finishing the race. It wasn't even possible to use GPS to navigate around when you could not even see one metre in front of you. Suspiciously, he looked around the pavilion. Didn't there used to be some trees at the back? Where were they now?

_/Now wake up little girly don't forget what they said_

_The early birdy gets the wormy time to get outta bed/_

His phone started ringing. He almost let it ring for a while longer just to listen to the pure awesomeness of the tune. But he supposed he'd better pick it up before the person on the other line ended their call.

"Hello?"

The sound of crackling was all he could hear, somewhat like that time when his sister and him used the computer for way too long and it ended up smoking.

"Hellooo? Who's that?" John tried again, in case the rainstorm had somehow messed up the signals.

He stood up and half hobbled, half hopped to one of the pillars, trying to get the person on the other line to answer.

"You know, the line is kinda wonky so if you can hear me, just sms me or something 'kay?"

Just as he was able to end the call, it happened.

A flash of light zipped down from the heavens. As if cracking opening a path in him, it made its way through his body. The sound of thunder, all so distinct, felt as if it came out from his throat. The rain was all but a distant white noise in the background.

Immediately, pain erupted from his head, most likely the point when the lightning entered. But it didn't take long for the pain to spread, down to his neck, paralysing his arms. His legs soon gave way, and he collapsed on the ground, his head feeling as if someone had deigned to split his head open with an axe or something of a sufficient weight. White-hot fire coursed through his veins and his bones felt as if a million fire ants were using it as chew toy.

Dimly, John remembered a much ignored old wives' tale; you should never use your handphone when there is lightning unless you wanted to be struck.

And struck he was.

Although it may have seemed like a long time, it was barely a second when another moment of pain hit (which made him remember something about the Cruciatus curse in the Harry Potter world for some reason). He would probably have knocked his head on the concrete floor in an attempt to black himself out.

But thankfully, his brain did that for him without prompting and he slumped over, unconscious.

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A/N: The fun really starts in chapter 2. Stay tuned! Leave a review too. It's all we poor fanfiction authors have, you know.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Chapter 2 is very short. It has not been beta-ed because my beta is busy. It end in a bad cliffhanger (kinda). You have been warned.

And yes. I forgot about these.

Disclaimer: If I do not look like J.K Rowling, do not write like her, or behave like her, what makes anyone think that I am her? I do not own Harry Potter. And good grieve; I certainly wouldn't want to be him.

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Chapter 2:

John woke up in utter darkness.

It wasn't a comforting darkness. It wasn't the sort of darkness that told you that you're probably just at home on your bed or maybe in a hospital; it was the sort of darkness that tells you something is hugely, vastly, largely, and very, very wrong.

John wasn't used to that sort of darkness.

He froze for a moment, and then forced himself to sit up. And rather wished he hadn't when he banged his head on something (was that the _ceiling_?) above him, almost making him lose consciousness again. For that moment, he thought it'd be a great idea to just stay still and attempt to recall back the last thing he remembered.

The last thing he could remember. Huh. The last thing John remembered was that he was sitting in a pavilion because of a sprained ankle. The sky was doing its best to imitate a waterfall. His phone rang. And then. And then he had… he had been…

Oh.

He had been struck by lightning.

Eventually, his headache subsided, leaving him with simply eight gnomes playing drumming with his brain instead of ten of them. Although he was quite sure that they were ready to come back at any point they thought he needed them.

It stood to reason that he was probably in a hospital now. The logical follow up action to someone being struck by lightning was to send them to the hospital. Except… wherever he was, it didn't even remotely seem like a hospital. If he had to hazard a guess, he would have thought that someone had kidnapped him and dumped him in some small, confined, place.

He reached his hand out and tried to feel his way out from wherever he was. His hand pushed and prodded, and generally tried to hold onto something that did not suspiciously felt like spiders and spider webs. There was the wall to his left, something that was probably a bed beneath him, the floor, and the ceiling. All the pushing and prodding only managed to convince himself that he definitely wasn't in a hospital – unless it was the cold and the section that was dedicated to the dead – or the pavilion. And although he did have some sort of suspicion as to where exactly he was, he was going to reserve his judgement until he at least stepped out of… of wherever he was.

Somewhere as dark and small as this could only be one of the two places; a refrigerator for dead people, or a cupboard. And he wasn't quite sure he wanted to know why someone had dumped him in either one. Especially when he had just been struck by a lightning.

Finally, he managed to open something that probably was the door. Light streamed in.

When he stepped out, he stood still and blinked for a few moments. He was standing in what seemed to be a totally unfamiliar and yet familiar house. He knew without a doubt that he had never in his entire life been in this house, yet it felt as familiar to him as his own face.

He braced himself and looked back.

At least it wasn't a refrigerator for dead people.

It was a cupboard. A cupboard under a flight of stairs, to be exact. It was a cupboard under the stairs that made his mind went on overdrive to analyse where exactly he was and how he got there.

He arrived at a highly unusual answer.

His logical mind however, refuted that answer. It was ludicrous and if he did believe in that answer, he would be opening a huge can of worms that linked to other equally if not larger can of worms about all sorts of thing including but not conclusive of alternate dimensions, time travel, souls, parallel universes, and so on. Even if it had concrete evidence and support, he was going to take a while convincing himself that he wasn't dreaming a highly lucid and vivid dream. Or that he had been kidnapped. Always a possibility.

Hence, despite the fact that he noticed his ankle was no more sprained than his neck was and that his hands looked entirely too small to be his, he did not tried believing in his suspicion. No, not yet anyway.

He took in a deep breath. The house smelled vaguely of lemon. It was one of those houses that he had only ever seen on the television show from England, which told him that he was probably no longer in his own country. The houses in his country are often higher and didn't have staircases, as far as he knew. Gingerly, he began walking around, hoping not to awaken the owner of the house. If his suspicion was correct, he really wouldn't want to wake the owners of the house — unless he had a masochistic instinct. They would probably do more than simply kick him out.

In fact, they would probably keep him in with extreme prejudice.

John's stomach rumbled. Not loudly, but enough to make him frown a little. He felt slightly giddy, and not just from the bump on his head either. He felt hunger like this once before, when he was hiking on a Malaysian mountain and had to ration his food with his friends because one of their packs fell and floated away in a river.

From the stairs, he walked into what was most probably the living room. There was a sofa, and a fireplace – a functional fireplace, not merely a decorative one. Definitely not in his own country then. His country didn't need fireplace, given its tropical weather.

On top of the fireplace, there were photographs of what seemed to be a gigantic and a small hot air balloon holding onto a stick together. But on closer inspection, it was apparently a photograph of actual human beings. Probably a family. A morbidly obese and unhealthy family. The adult male looked as though if he got any large, he wouldn't be able to fit in the photo frame. The younger male seemed about to follow his father's footsteps. The woman was relatively healthier compared to the other two figures in the picture, even if she did reminded him of a vicious giraffe.

He shook his head. Since when had he been turned into someone that judged others purely on their looks? For all he knew, they were a perfectly nice family. Not very healthy perhaps, but nice.

Wind blew in from the window, and hair started to rise at the back of his neck. He turned his head back. He caught a peep out from the windows of the living room and to his dismay; the houses were exactly identical to each other. If he wasn't as determined to think logically as he was able to in the current situation, he would have thought that he had accidentally fallen into the world of Matrix and someone had copied and pasted the houses right next to each other.

John continued to walk around the house, getting the feeling that he wasn't going to like what was about to happen.

He was right, because his suspicion was about to be confirmed.

A mirror stood in front of him, and John could not help but stare.

He moved his hand. The reflection did too. Then he touched his face. The reflection did what it was supposed to. It touched its face as well.

Messy hair, as usual. Clothes too big for him, checked. Glasses on, yes. Slouching as always, yep.

But something wasn't right.

He was much smaller than he remembered being the last time he looked in the mirror. Instead of his usual black eyes, his eyes were green. And when he swept the bangs aside, his fingers brushed against something rough and definitely should not have been there.

It was a scar, in the shape of a lightning bolt.

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A/N: Hmm let's see here. Chapter 3 deals with when exactly our dear John ended up in, his first meeting with the Dursleys, and the letter scene.

Oh and John went out for a walk.

Stay tuned!


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thanks people, for the great responses in chapter 2! Here's chapter 3 for you!

Disclaimer: Silently fluttering in the cold desert of Siberia, the butterfly struggled to stay up in the air. Yet the cold was slowly but surely sinking deeper and deeper into her wings, freezing her entire being.

From England, it flew across oceans and lands. It continued to flutter on, for it carries a huge responsibility. She must fulfill the last wish of her kind. Even though all she wanted to do was to lie down on the snow and let the cold take her, she would not give up, for she was so close to her goal... so close...

Finally reaching her destination, the butterfly drifted down, too tired to move. The wind easily picked her up and drifted the last Monarch butterfly to the pulse of the sleeping land.

Finally her last words, carried by the wind, echoed throughout centuries.

"Ao Yuki does not own Hikaru no Go."

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After the series of shocks the previous day, Hikaru was unprepared to face more; other than the fact that he had forgotten all about school. He was scandalized to remember that he was still a measly student at eleven years old and therefore he had to go to school. And that meant that he had to wake up early. He had to wear uniform, he had to remember to greet all the sempai as sempai, and worse of all, attend all the boring lessons. All over again.

Under his breath, Hikaru said some really colourful words.

Yawning for the umpteenth times, Hikaru allowed his legs to take on a mind of their own while he did his best to keep awake on the way to school. Daisuke on the other hand, had boundless energy and was determined to convince Sai about something. Like how takoyaki was the best food in the world. Sai just seemed generally confused. Absentmindedly, Hikaru listened in to their one-sided conversation, feeling his bed and blanket calling to him. He had surprisingly adapted quite well to the fact that he now had a twin brother.

"Sai, why do you like Go so much?"

Through their now three-way link, Hikaru felt the changes in Sai's mood. A pang went through his heart, and he felt vaguely nauseas. Daisuke too, didn't look too well. Both had stopped walking.

Sai closed his eyes and bowed his head.

"I am not sure if I can ever explain to you..." Sai said softly. "Go... Go is my life. Tell me, Daisuke and Hikaru... Do you have something that you live for?"

Hikaru felt less nauseas as the seconds passed. He frowned and shook his head slightly. He did. Go was his life. But it would be strange for this version of him to say that, would it? Daisuke shrugged.

Sai looked straight at them.

"Then do you have something that you will die for?"

Hikaru was startled. He wasn't given a chance to think about it as Sai continued.

"I do. And that is Go. Go gave brought me all my happiness. And... as it turns out, brought my me death too."

"And yet still, I would never have wished for anything else. I have never been happier than when I was teaching Go to Emperor Seiwa. Every day I played Go. But I never got bored. There are just so many ways a game could have gone and so many different opponents to face. Go is a meeting of minds. Your every emotion, your every thought, affects the game. A game can reveal your personality and your desires. It is fascinating to me. At that point in time, besides me there was another Go tutor. One day, he suggested to the emperor..."

"_Only one instructor is needed. Why don't we play and the winner can remain?"_

At that, Hikaru swallowed. He knew what happened next, but he was mesmerized by the tale unfolding before his eye. Maybe Sai could be a storyteller in his next life.

"You played Go with him then? Who won?" Daisuke asked quietly.

May it was his imagination, but Sai's eyes seemed to take on a darker hue.

"At first, the game was even. Both of us were equally matched. But then… I saw it. Even with everyone watching the game, somehow I was the only one who saw it. A white stone had been mixed into his goban. It rarely happens... but sometimes, your stones get mixed up with your opponent's. Of course, that has nothing to do with the match and usually the person would just hand it over..."

Sai stared at his hands.

"But he... he waited for the right moment and added it to his captured stones."

"He cheated!" Daisuke burst with indignation and scowled.

Sai nodded.

"Yes… yes he did. And I was… I was so angry. But when I was about to raise my voice... he turned around accused me of cheating instead. I denied, of course. But we had to continue the game, because the Emperor declared that he refused to believe that something so disgracefulhad happened in his presence. I... I was unravelled. I lost because I couldn't concentrate after his accusation. The emperor branded me as a cheater. I was exiled, and ordered never to touch Go again."

"But…Go is what I lived for. It's my life. What was the point in a life without what I lived for? I walked for two days straight without rest, until I reached a river. I remember the name of the river... Kohaku. I... I am not sure what came over me. There comes a point in time when there isn't anything to hold you anymore and you give up. I gave up. I jumped into the river. When I came to my senses again, it was too late. The river was unforgiving. I couldn't get myself out even if I wanted to. But I couldn't let go. I wanted to play more Go! It wasn't fair! It wasn't. Why did I have to leave just when I discovered Go? And somehow, kami heard my wishes. My spirit attached to a goban, watching and waiting and waiting for something to come along..."

Hikaru had a bitter taste in his mouth. Sai had come to the part in the story which he always hated the most. Torajirou. Honinbou Shusaku. Compared to him, Hikaru forever felt guilty. He was a jerk to Sai, confining his brilliance and talent to his room and never letting him play as much as he wanted to. He wished he had Torajirou's insight to see Sai's ability and let him played more.

"So I was given another chance. Torajirou found me. He was very interested in Go and took me on willingly and I was able to play as much Go as I wanted. Torajirou was a very good player and would have become a great Go player... But luck was not with us. He died at the young age of thirty four."

"Since then, I've stayed in the goban, waiting. I lived for Go and died for Go, Hikaru and Daisuke. Go is everything I ever had and everything I ever will. The reason why I am here is because of Go. And I think if I ever stopped loving Go, I wouldn't be here anymore. Can you understand now why I love Go?" Sai asked.

Daisuke was silent.

And Hikaru was silent too. He never thought of it that way before, but it seemed sad to him somehow. Living and dying for a game, and then having that same game take over your entire existence such that if you ever stopped loving the game, you would disappear.

It must have been terrifying. What if he got bored with the game? Or found something else more important than Go? Would he 'die' again? Those must have been Sai's thoughts at one point in time.

Was that why Sai disappeared in the first place? That he found something other than Go?

Hikaru shook his head. It couldn't be. Sai and Go were synonymous with each other. How could Sai ever abandon Go?

Hikaru spoke up with Sai and Daisuke. He made a promise to himself and to Sai.

"Don't worry Sai. Daisuke and I will let you play Go as much as we can, right Daisuke?"

Daisuke piped up.

"Yep! We will!"

Tears welled up further in his eyes, threatening to spill over. Sai hugged the both of them with all his strength, enthusiastically exclaiming his happiness. That soon ended when Daisuke pointed out that they were going to be late with his face slightly blue as his air supply had been abruptly cut off. It was strange having a ghost that felt as physical as the next human being hugged you. But then again, Hikaru recently had stranger things happen to him.

Like travelling six years back into a parallel universe for example. He was still trying to figure that out.

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Thankfully because they left home somewhat earlier than usual, they arrived on time.

To Hikaru, school was as boring as much his murky memories had informed him. The mundane lessons, the droning voices of the teachers mixing up all the facts like a giant washing machine... Time was interminable, with the hands of the clock moving ever agonizingly slowly.

When Hikaru had become a Go profession at grade six, he had cheerfully left the classroom, assuming that he would never _ever_ have to step back into in ever again. Now, seated back at the hard plastic chair with a hard plastic table in front of him again, it only goes to show that one must never assume anything.

Staring blankly at the blackboard, Hikaru suddenly remembered one of his reasons for becoming a Go pro at such a young age.

School was torture.

With a sigh, Hikaru rested his head on the table, his eyes drifting throughout the classroom. Despite the strangeness of seeing all his classmates being a kid again, he quickly got used to it. They still acted the same way, more or less.

The window at the side of the classroom suddenly appeared very tempting. If the lesson went on any further, Hikaru thought he might just take up on its invitation and jump right out of it.

Images of the sort of horrified expression on his teacher's face played behind his eyelid. When all of a sudden, he felt a small round hard object connect solidly with the back of his head, successfully jolting him to full consciousness and disrupting said images.

Now fully awake, Hikaru looked behind him in annoyance. Daisuke had been the one to deny him the human right to fall asleep. Didn't he know that sleep was very important? That if you didn't fet enough, you could die?

Grinning wide at Hikaru, Daisuke just mouthed the words 'don't fall asleep'. Hikaru growled irritably and turned his head to face the teacher again, trying _really_ hard to focus. Certainly by theory, an eighteen year old shouldn't fail six grade right...?

No more than five seconds later, Hikaru could feel his mind start drifting once again. Why did he have to learn all these stuff anyway? It wasn't as if the minister of something did whatever that caused whichever was even alive now. Surely the repercussions of his actions have stopped?

Fortunately (or unfortunately, whichever way you want to take it), Hikaru's drifting mind managed to catch the last few words of the teacher announcing one very unwanted piece of news.

"...poorly on their social studies test. So, we will have another test tomorrow."

Loud groans of distress were emitted from almost every student's mouth. Some complained about the total unfairness of life, some the usual teenage angst, some letting out wails of despair as if they had been told that the world was ending. Looks of utter dismay could also be clearly seen on all students' faces. No sane student liked tests, especially on the one subject that they had been told they did poorly on.

Scratch that. No sane students liked any sort of tests. Those that did had their minds twisted far along enough that they were could arguably be called 'insane'.

Hikaru groaned together with the rest of the students, convinced that the world was really going crazy. He lifted his head off the table unwillingly and gave an exaggerated sigh of hopelessness. How was he was expected to remember something he learned years ago _in another _universe was beyond his imagination.

The bell finally rang for break.

"Ne, nii-chan..."

Startled at the voice, Hikaru nearly fell off his chair.

They were currently in the cafeteria. While they usually ate in the classroom, Hikaru felt like exploring the school more and dragged Daisuke with him. Hikaru alternated between flipping through the social studies textbook to prepare for the test the next day, and staring at Sai and wondering if he could skip lessons and just go play a game of Go with him. Although, where exactly was he going to get a goban is a problem…

"Yeah, Diasuke?" Hikaru replied.

"Grandpa has a Go board right?"

"Oh yeah!" His eyes had just been thinking about that.

"Then do you want to go to grandpa's house after school and let Sai play Go?"

Hearing Sai's excited gasp, Hikaru smiled. He nodded with a grin.

"Definitely!"

He was going to play Go. With Sai.

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"Oh Hikaru! Are you feeling better now? It was sure a shock... Daisuke running down, saying you collapsed. I got so worried..."

"I'm fine!" "He's fine!"

Hikaru blinked.

Seeing his grandfather moving around without a wheelchair was odd, but not as odd as having someone with almost the same voice echoed the words you say at the same time.

Heihachi Shindou chuckled lightly and shook his head in affection.

"You two always do everything together. So what brought both of you here? Grandma went shopping."

Hikaru could help but smirked in a way that he thought probably looked quite evil.

"Well grandpa, Daisuke and I learned Go. I was thinking that if we beat you, will you give us the Go board in the attic?"

An expression of pleasant surprise was shown on his face, wondering if he heard wrongly, before a wide grin appeared, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

"Go?! Really? You two actually learned how to play?"

Quickly, much faster than any old man should have been able to, he dashed through the door to get the goban, thoroughly energized at the prospect of a game or two of Go with his two favourite grandsons.

"Now, you two better don't run away!"

Hikaru, with some self-control, managed to control his evil grin this time. There was something to be said knowing something that nobody else knew.

He was Shindou Hikaru, holder of the Tengen title and a strong contender for the Gosei title. His poor grandpa.

People could accuse Hikaru of many things, but a lack of confidence in Go wasn't one.

He watched on in a silence as Daisuke called their mother to notify her that they were in their grandfather's house. Sai looked in curiosity at the strange contraption widely known as a phone. Hikaru's mind wondered at the opportunity given to him by sending him back in time to the first time he met Sai. There were countless things that he could have done better... and now, he was given the chance to do so.

The endless possibilities seemed like the placement of Go stones on a board to Hikaru. If one could open up his or her mind, Go is a board game that could as easily confuse your opponents as easily as it confused you. There were no standard procedures, no method which one absolutely must follow. It was just like his current situation.

Could he prevent Sai's disappearance?

There was no doubt at all in his mind that Sai was good for the Go world; his sheer brilliance had been the kick in the Go world that it needed to get more people to notice the game.

He was glad to see Sai. Overjoyed even. As would the Go world as soon as they could meet him.

Hikaru had once lamented that he didn't let Sai play more games.

But now he didn't have to.

Hikaru did not want any more regrets. This time, Hikaru was determined to try and do things better this time round. And how he was going to do that?

Through Go of course. Internet and otherwise.

However, he was faced with the dilemma of his Go versus Sai's go. He wanted to play Go, damn it. He'd had the chance to play Go uninterrupted for three whole years and he enjoyed every little bit of it. Despite his guilt. Despite the regret. He didn't want to and couldn't just sit back and let Sai take over all the time. He knew he was being selfish. Watching Sai and feeling his anticipation of finally getting to play Go again after so many years, Hikaru felt torn.

When it was time to face his grandpa, should he place the stones for Sai?

He didn't think that he could do that. Not all the time. After Sai left, he was as obsessed with Go as Sai was. To let every game play under his fingertips but yet not his would drive him crazy.

But Hikaru didn't think he could stand seeing Sai fade away again. Sai's presence and strangely enough, Daisuke's presence as well, filled up some void of loneliness he always had after he left.

Hikaru was broken out of his reverie when Daisuke shook him.

"Nii-chan, you go first!"

He blinked several times, trying to clear the cobwebs of thoughts from his mind. While he had been immersed in his thoughts, it seemed like his grandfather had already set up the Goban.

Hikaru moved as if to take his place opposite his grandpa. However at the last minute, he turned around and looked at Daisuke.

Wait a minute.

He didn't have to have a dilemma. There was Daisuke.

The universe had apparently, given him the solution to his problem.

"You go first, Daisuke."

Hikaru pushed a puzzled Daisuke towards the tatami mat and stood up, doing several stretching exercises.

"I need to stretch my legs a little first so you can play, Daisuke. I'll play after you." He grinned.

"Scared, Hikaru? Don't worry! Grandpa will go easy on you!" Hikaru's grandfather reassured.

Hikaru stuck his tongue out.

While he wasn't going to deny Sai the chance to play, he wasn't going to give up Go as well. Daisuke could hold stones for Sai and he could play on his own.

Perfect.

While watching Sai take his place behind Daisuke to direct where to place the stone, Hikaru silently contemplated the ethereal form in front of him. He hadn't played with Sai for a while now. While Sai had been stagnant in the Go board, he had changed and gotten a lot stronger.

Was it possible that he was as strong at Sai now? Even a little bit? Perhaps even beat him?

At that, Hikaru shook his head and snorted.

Nope. If he couldn't beat that creepy Ogata guy back in his own universe, he doubted his ability to actually beat Sai. Even if he played for another hundred years. No wait, scratch that...

Hikaru frowned.

He definitely couldn't beat Sai even if I played for a hundred years. It wasn't a matter of a lack of experience. It was just pure fact.

This time Hikaru's thoughts were broken when he felt both intense happiness and sadness travelling down his mental link with Sai. So much so that for a moment, he felt slightly dizzy. Thankfully, it was only temporary, or he just might fall down and hit his head again...

Without even glancing at him, Hikaru knew that Sai was crying. For kami know how many years he had been trapped a single place, forced to only dream about his only reason for existence. Hikaru was surprised that Sai hadn't gone insane. Hikaru knew that if he was him, he would have.

Sai was crying. He felt relieved that he was no longer merely dreaming. Someone really did wake him up from the goban, and that he was finally going to play Go again. He felt happy that he had more than one person who could see him this time. He felt sad, that the last time he was facing a goban, Torajirou was on the opposite, his blood soaking into it and life leaving him with every moment.

Hikaru whispered teasingly.

"Hey Sai. I know grandpa is strong, but you don't have to be so afraid of him that you're crying, you know."

Taking in a deep breath (vaguely, Hikaru wondered how ghost could breath), Sai smiled.

"All right, Hikaru! I'll try my best to beat grandpa!" he exclaimed.

Daisuke looked back for a while, and raised an eyebrow at the tear streaks on his face. He shook his head and turned back.

"Let's play, Grandpa."

And for a moment, Hikaru felt a pang in his chest.

Because Sai and Daisuke had said the same thing at the same time, and the two of them looked exactly as how he had imagined Torajirou and Sai would have looked all those years back, a ghostly hand guiding the stones on the board.

He blinked and frowned.

The game began.

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The only word to describe the game was 'short' and 'brutal'.

Wait that was two words.

The only two words to describe the game were 'short' and 'brutal'.

Hikaru had been slightly surprised that Daisuke seemed to already know the basics of Go. It quickly faded away to pure amazement as Sai and his grandpa fought a one one-sided battle. No matter what his grandpa did, Sai ruthlessly pressed on. His grandpa was wholly unwilling to admit defeat so early in the game - and to a six grader at that - continued on. Despite Sai's old playing style, it seemed that his strength was still as incomparable as ever.

Every time his grandpa made a move, Hikaru winced in sympathy. If Hikaru didn't already know that Sai was a ghost with a thousand years of experience under his belt, he would have been utterly terrified at his strength. As such, it only further confirmed Hikaru's previous thoughts that he definitely couldn't beat Sai.

Hikaru sighed.

The game ended barely twenty minutes later, clearly in Sai's favour. No one had the heart to really count how many moku his grandpa lost by.

Sai seemed rather embarrassed.

"I'm so sorry, Shindou-san. I got caught up in the game and everything… I'm sorry…" He apologised to an incredulous grandfather.

Unconvinced by the results and convinced that it must have been a fluke, his grandpa demanded to play anther match with Daisuke, while Daisuke adamantly refused.

"No way! It's nii-chan's turn! You said you'll give us the Go board in the attic if nii-chan and I beat you, so play with nii-chan now."

Defeated and annoyed that he had been cheated (in his opinion anyway), his grandpa agreed but only if he got to play Daisuke again later. Daisuke scowled, but agreed nonetheless.

"Fine. Only one more game though. Nii-chan is going to teach me how to play Rock Man DASH when we get back home."

Hikaru watched the exchange in amusement, and then sat down.

He hesitated for a while, before clearing his throat and said out loud.

"I'll be playing on my own, Grandpa."

Hikaru could feel Sai surprise at his announcement. Daisuke was still scowling at the fact that he had been denied more time to play Rock Man DASH, and his grandpa just blinked at his strange announcement.

"What? Of course you are."

"You know how to play Go too, Hikaru?" Hikaru could hear Sai's mounting excitement. "You'll play Go with me later too?'

Hikaru gave a small smile, inclining his head slightly to indicate his agreement.

"Okay, old man! I'm so going to beat you!" Hikaru gave a feral smile.

"Wha..? You said you hated Go just a few months ago, Hikaru! I'm the city Go tournament champion. There's no way that you can beat me even if you somehow managed to pick up the game." he said incredulously.

"Well, we'll see, won't we old man?!'" Hikaru retorted, thoroughly enjoying reeling his grandpa up.

And so after arguing about whether they should nigiri or not, Hikaru just randomly grabbed a go-ke and demanded.

"Come on then, let's just start!"

The game started with Hikaru playing black.

And as if a switch had been thrown, Hikaru's facial expression changed, his mind immediately shut off all outside interference. There was nothing around him except for the goban in front, and the presence of each and every go stones. Black, white, black, white… He threw all his focus into reading ahead the game. Every stone, every move counted. Laying traps, defending, attacking, connecting...

He didn't see the growing look of utter disbelief on his grandfather's face. He didn't see the strange glint in Sai's eyes as he continued placing down the stones.

He didn't even notice when Daisuke left to answer the phone and get a glass of water.

Very soon, the game ended when his grandfather admitting his loss in a faraway and small voice.

Hikaru saw that his grandpa's face was whiter than usual. Concerned for his grandpa's health (he was pretty old after all), Hikaru waved a hand in front of his grandpa's stunned face.

"Hey! Are you okay?"

Hikaru's waving seemed to have done the trick because his grandpa merely stared at both his grandsons some more, before shaking his head.

"Unbelievable..."

"Hey, grandpa! You said you'll give us the goban, remember? Since nii-chan beat you already, can we take the goban then go home?" Daisuke asked hopefully.

"Wha..? Oh right! The goban in the attic. It's said to be haunted you know... why don't you get this goban instead?" he persuaded, seemingly having forgotten that he wanted to play Daisuke again. Daisuke didn't seem inclined to remind him either.

At the word 'haunted', the Shindou twins instinctively glanced at Sai, who was currently looking curiously at the bookshelves.

"No, no. You said we'll have _that_ goban. And we want that goban, right, nii-chan?" Daisuke added.

Hikaru nodded his head vigorously and added in his piece.

"You should honor your promise to your grandsons, old man!"

Heihachi Shindou's shoulders slumped and he sighed in defeat.

"All right all right... I'll bring the goban here since you two want it so much. But don't tell me I didn't warn you if some strange white ghost that loves to play Go jumps out at you..." he grumbled as he left the room.

Hikaru held his laughter in until his grandpa closed the door, then let it all out. Daisuke too, dissolved into peals of laughter as he looked at Sai.

Only Sai seemed to be left in the dark.

With a confused expression on his face, Sai just asked.

"What is so funny?"

Somehow, it only sent the Shindou twins laughing more.

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A/N: Wow, I didn't end off in a cliffhanger? I guess I ought to add another disclaimer here. I don't own Rock Man DASH, capcom does.

For a couple of days, I had this humongous writer's block, my laptop had been throwing tantrums, my homework went missing, etc. You get it; I was absolutely not pleased at all. Consider this chapter a gift by unknown forces of the world because my computer has mysteriously been fixed, my writer's block cleared, my homework appearing in places I swore I checked already.


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